I was three years old when I first went to school - that's what my mother called it -
a storefront on Archer Avenue equipped with cots and donated toys, an old black & white television, and a menagerie of imposing, steel playground equipment in the fenced-in parking lot behind the building
the operation was run by a middle-aged couple who cruised the pickup route early in the morning in a rusted, raucous, white station wagon, cramming clients into the back, Indian- style, backs...
Stunned silence, After that first sweet kiss, Blissful silence, Cuddled by love's soft fire, Angry silence, Something is amiss, Endless silence, Does he not tire? Screaming in silence, Breath choked to a hiss, Shocked silence, At the funeral pyre.
I guess I knew it all along That you were wrong I tried to give you reason without doubt But you turned me inside out Left me second guessing If something in me was missing But now I see It was me! So I turned and walked away I don't want to hear a word you say I'll never bend out of fear I'll never shed another fucking tear I'm better than the lie we lived Won't ever let someone do that to me again